


Said the Spider to the Fly

by medical_mechanica



Series: Said the Spider [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bad Touch Chancellor, Blood, Blood Kink, Breathplay, Don't Try This At Home, M/M, Molestation, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 02:43:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11454336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medical_mechanica/pseuds/medical_mechanica
Summary: Spoilers for Episode Prompto and the latter half of the game. Takes Place in the Saint Andrew’s Cross in Zegnautus Keep before Noctis and the guys show up.“I’m sure you must be weary, dear…” An all too familiar low vibrato echoed out from behind him, and not for the first time did the light in Prompto’s chest fade more than just a little. From behind the contraption he was bound to came the Chancellor, rounding the room and coming to stand before him, “… what with soaring so high.”





	Said the Spider to the Fly

**Author's Note:**

> Posting for FFXV Rarepairs Week 2017. 2300 Words. Promdyn. Prompto and Ardyn. Content Warning: All of the Bad Things About this Pairing (Dub/non-con, violence, vague blood play, Ardyn reciting poetry) Takes Place in the Saint Andrew’s Cross in Zegnautus Keep
> 
> Has any one done this yet? Somebody had to. I’m sorry. Kind of. Not. I came up with this at work. Shoutout to @chocobutt-trash this is your fault and not the fic I was expecting to write.

That night had been unusually chilly. Chancellor Ardyn Izunia had been tailing Noctis and the guys on their way to the Disc, and despite the older man’s upbeat demeanor, there was just something about the whole arrangement that felt… wrong. After ending up at the rest stop in Cauthess, the chancellor seemed to loom, moving about the peripheral of their caravan, like old smoke. After an awkward encounter where he distinctively grabbed for the gunner’s chin, the boys collectively decided to call it a night. Ardyn had stood upright at that moment, dipping into a slight but ostentatious bow and said “Step into my parlour…” 

while they loaded into the rental. Gladio quirked a brow at Ignis, and the prince had scoffed, but Prompto hadn’t really reacted. It had been weird, but no weirder than when the photographer he had interned for back in high school said it to him while crouched with a camera under a table in a coat check. Everyone said it. It was a thing. It was a… 

‘It was a common saying in Lucis,’ the gunner thought to himself, despite the growing ache in his back. Trying to keep his breath even, he balanced on the toes of his boots, body arching into the grips of his restraints. His arms outstretched and bound at the wrists, secured by a mechanism that was at that moment keeping his entire body taunt; a rope that was fraying and set to snap. It had started slowly, but after what felt like several hours it had gotten to the point where it was getting harder to keep the panic from setting in and asphyxiate him due to the pressure the pull on his arms was putting on his ribcage. Staying on his toes despite the restraints helped ease the pull from his arms, but it kept growing. He tried hard not to let himself think about how the joints were beginning to dislocate, and how if it didn’t stop or if he lost balance from his precarious positioning, it would just keep going, and going, and it’ll pull his arms right off, and he’d be no better than one of… better than… 

Taking a gently shuttering breath, Prompto Argentum prayed to whatever was left of the Astrals to help Noctis find him sooner than later. Before he could get far, a door opened somewhere nearby. Taking another deep breath was about all he could do from letting his heart jump up his throat. A moment passed, and the blond had stilled, straining to hear for any sign of well, anyone. He was met with silence. Silence, and the occasional breeze of what was an air conditioner kicking on. Several more moments slipped by uneventful, before a slight hiss in the machinery behind him brought his tightening bonds back to life. The blond cried out, muscles twitching so much he thought he could feel the tendons starting to rip, panic settling in full force. 

And just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

The pull went slack, and Prompto’s arms had just enough give to dip his elbows again, although the bonds on his wrists remained unmoved. His eyes darted about the room, chest now heaving with less restricted capacity. The weight of him seemed to cave in that moment, and with little control he crumpled onto his armpits as much as his body was allowed. The room remained silent, aside from the hum of distant machinery coming in low around him. In spite of his resolve, Prompto felt a whine build in his throat. The hum seemed to grow louder, and the blond bit it back. It continued for what felt like hours, but the mechanism controlling his restraints remained at bay and for that the gunner was thankful. Every so often, he made it a point to flex his fingers as to keep the circulation going, but between that and the growing pang of what living off of Ebony will get you, Prompto kept going back and forth from worrying about starving to death to being thankful his arms hadn’t been ripped off yet. 

The once distant hum grew louder still and the air conditioner kicked on; the hairs on his freckled arms stood on end. 

“I’m sure you must be weary, dear…” An all too familiar low vibrato echoed out from behind him, and not for the first time did the light in Prompto’s chest fade more than just a little. From behind the contraption he was bound to came the Chancellor, rounding the room and coming to stand before him, “… what with soaring so high.” Before the gunner could get a word in, the cold hard butt of his own pistol materialized in a burst of light across his face, and he could feel the heat of a fresh gash blossoming across the bridge of his nose. He grimaced into the blood that began to drip. The hate he felt boil up and threaten to consume him battled with the fatigue of days of muscle strain, and try as he could to fight against his restraints, his movements were dulled. Prompto exhaled in a huff, in fact ‘weary’. Ardyn looked cordial as ever as he regarded the bound form before him, as casually as if he were receiving a dinner guest. The blond blinked away from the man’s gaze, but found himself alone in the room not a moment later. He struggled to peer about the room, panic again starting to set in. 

“You bastard!” Prompto called out, more desperate than intended. He stared at the gate in front of him, low humming silence falling again around him. The blond frowned at the thought that maybe what felt like hours was actually turning into days. The wound on his nose was already clotting, and the blood on his nose and mouth drying, and for once he was glad he Ardyn could hurt him… because then at least he could prove he had even been there, if for no one but himself. He sighed. All too suddenly, the machinery behind him whirred to life yet again, and he felt the agonizing pull on his wrists and shoulder blades, and Prompto started screaming. 

As much as the gunner had tried to convince himself that he had been ready to face it again, nothing could prepare him for the actual sensation of his right shoulder slipping out of its socket. It hadn’t inherently hurt at first, but the moment he tried to move the joint afterward, his neck spasmed in a sharp flash of pain. Tears began to stream down his cheeks, and just as suddenly as it had started, the whirring behind him stopped and his bonds relaxed. Prompto’s right arm remained dislocated, and his neck had stiffed from the pain. He made no move to restrain the whine that echoed out of his throat at that point, moving to a few full dry sobs. He was no Gladio, he wasn’t Ignis, he just wasn’t supposed to have made it this far. His friends might care about him after all, but that wasn’t going to keep his arms from getting ripped off. At least then maybe he would be rid of that barcode… That despair that he had warded off since before landing himself in Gralea was creeping in again, and he wished against everything that Ardyn would let him walk out alive twice in a row. At this rate he would never survive to get Noctis to hate him. 

Aching and distressed, Prompto could feel the air conditioner kick on again, and his latent fatigue gripped at his senses until he dosed off. 

Prompto awoke with a start, finding a hand gripping his jaw. The chancellor was only inches away from his face, bemused expression paired with eyes intent on him. “Will you rest upon my pretty bed?” Ardyn questioned, fingers slowly digging into the freckled skin hard enough to keep him in place as the blond tried to pull away. Prompto couldn’t have been out for long, his exhaustion still clung to him like his bonds. The chancellor was being obtuse, however, gratified expression unchanging. “There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin…” his voice was soft, as he ran a forefinger along the blond’s jaw. This made Prompto shudder harder than the pistol had. The older man leaned in, bending over just so their eyes met on the same level. “And if you like to rest a while…” he began, still as softly as before. The gunner felt his breath hitch as the chancellor leaned in, bringing his mouth to his ear. “… I’ll gladly tuck you in” the man breathed. 

He was still gripping Prompto’s mouth shut, and it was then the gunner realized how cool the breath against his neck felt. He was helpless from hiding the chill that ran down his spine in that moment. A hand fell to his belt. Prompto was still virtually immobilized by his restraints. The belt was quickly removed, and his protests fell muffled into the hand gripping his face. He made to yell, but found three cold, salty, fingers jammed into his mouth. They seemed to grab at his tongue, pushing it back into his throat before pulling at it and it nearly made him choke. That hand went directly from his mouth to slip down his boxers and around his flaccid dick. He cried out again, finding himself stifled by the weight of the older man’s mouth on his own as Ardyn began to pump the blond’s cock. The shock of it took Prompto, his body responding in spite of itself. The mouth on his own didn’t last as long however, as Ardyn’s free hand moved to grip Prompto’s chin and mouth as the one had before it. The chancellor continued to loom over the bound gunner, eyes aflame as they bore into the desperate pair before him. 

“‘Oh no no, parum musca dixit, ‘for I’ve often heard it said’…. “ Ardyn continued carefully, one hand shaping the blond’s mouth to form the words ‘heard it said’, while the other hand deftly gripped the blond’s cock as the pad of his thumb pushed against the tip. “….’ they never, never wake again, those who sleep upon your bed.” His tone was chilling. At this, Prompto’s semi-hard cock was dragged out of his boxers. The blond turned a shameful red, eyes upturned while a breathy whine escaped his throat. He was too tired to fight Ardyn, he his entire body ached from weeks on the run, from falling off of a train, facing his past, and it wasn’t fair that his body was betraying him now like this too. He tried to yank his face out of the older man’s grip, and he was rewarded with a smack that nearly knocked him out cold in his restraints. In spite of this, Prompto was rock solid, and Ardyn’s eyes shone as he took note of the younger man’s erection. 

“Dear friend,” the man’s voice spilled around him like a haze, in complete contrast to the force that hit Prompto across the face moments before. The blond actually began to feel lightheaded, and felt copper paint his mouth and face again as the wound on his nose reopened. “What can I do, to prove the warm affection that I’ve always felt for you?” Ardyn continued unabated, taking a moment to reveal his own fully formed erection in hand. Prompto found himself dribbling up blood as he glanced down the moment before the chancellor took both of their lengths in hand. He grunted as the older man made use of the pooling blood as it oozed down from the blond’s mouth, and used it as lube as he gripped the both of them together. Cocks twitching, Ardyn’s hand encompassed them both. 

The wail that left the gunner’s mouth was pathetic even by his standards, and he hated every moment his eyes rolled back into his head and his breath fell hard and he was relieved he wasn’t losing his arms at that moment. Ardyn cupped his hands to form a coronal bouquet, and in spite of his actions, seemed to be unaffected by his own efforts. Prompto was not having as much luck, not having had come in months, and now suddenly presented with the very real option of a release. Ardyn seemed to know this, not making any effort to hide his glee as he continued to stroke them off. The chancellor leaned in again, speaking low tones into the bloodied lips of the blond. “‘Sweet creature!’ aranea dixit, ‘you’re witty and you’re wise. How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!’” 

The gunner was confused as to why Ardyn would mention the Dragoon, but nothing was making sense at this point, and he could only mutter a “bastard….” before letting out a deep moan into the chancellor’s mouth. He was close, and he knew it. It was then a hand slipped around his throat and clenched. The blond would have laughed had he air, finally gotten an unrehearsed response from the chancellor. The hand at his cock continued en force. The blond could feel himself begin to lose consciousness, ever closer to orgasm, and let his eyes flutter shut. 

“‘I’ve a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf,” the older man continued to recite, tone firmer and louder than before, picking up speed and grip, the gunner’s hips helplessly buckling as his cock twitched, “If you’ll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.” And then, everything stopped. He blinked, focusing on the space where Ardyn occupied only seconds ago. He was nowhere to be seen. In his place stood the form of a Magitek Trooper.

Prompto’s scream would resonate into a broken cry.

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to end up the second part in a Promdyn series I've been working on. Stay tuned.


End file.
